


Study Buddies

by stellalunalovegood



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hogwarts First Year, Hurt/Comfort, Marauders' Era, Remus Lupin & Lily Evans Potter Friendship, does that apply to platonic ships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-13 19:53:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10520706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellalunalovegood/pseuds/stellalunalovegood
Summary: Lily is burning the midnight common room fireplace to write the perfect transfiguration essay. Remus comes in with his own stack of work, looking as exhausted as Lily feels. She decides what they both need, more than their textbooks, is a hot cup of tea.





	

Lily Evans sat in an overstuffed chair in the Gryffindor common room, pouring over _A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration_. It was dark except for the waning moon in the window and the orange glow of the fireplace. Just enough to light up the page. Her eyelids heavy, she had to blink rapidly every few minutes to encourage them to stay open. She was alone- most of the other students had gone to bed hours ago, they had class tomorrow.

But her first essay was due this week. Transfiguration with McGonagall. The professor was sharp as a bowtruckle (an idiom Lily had recently learned) and Lily wanted to show her she was a capable witch. She was doing well in her classes, but she needed to be absolutely sure she aced her first assignment. She had heard what Slytherins whispered about muggleborns to each other, sometimes to her face. She wanted to prove them wrong. She needed to prove them wrong. 

Her wand felt as natural as any of her colored pens she used to scribble poems in the margins of her notebooks. (She didn’t care what anyone said- quills and parchment are anachronistic and impractical.) Spells flew from her tongue as naturally as her favorite muggle pop songs. All her professors adored her for her wit and charm. 

But still, she worried that there was truth hidden in the snickers of her peers. After all, most of them have been around magic their whole lives. (Watching their mothers spell the dishes clean, learning to ride a broomstick instead of a bicycle, swallowing a spoonful of potion rather than cough syrup when they got sick.) As much as magic enchanted her, she hadn’t known about it more than a year before she started school, and the only people she’d seen do magic up until a few months were herself and Severus, neither of whom had any skills or wands at the time. Stepping out onto Diagon Alley for the first time had been one of the most exciting moments of her life, and she knew she wouldn’t have felt the same if she’d spent her childhood dragging her parents to Flourish and Blotts in place of Barnes and Noble since she learned to read. She loved both the worlds she lived in, but there were days when she envied the kids who had grown up with magic. (The grace Dorcas and Marlene possessed on a broomstick, 10, 20 meters in the air, as opposed to herself shakily hovering less than a meter from the ground. The girls in her dorm reminiscing about Babbitty Rabbitty or the Hopping Pot.) 

Lily looked from the page to her parchment. _“Transfiguration is the transformation of one thing into something else while conjuring requires one to create something from nothing. The difference between them, if overlooked…”_

She had a good essay, informative without being too boring. (She hoped McGonagall would appreciate her subtle cat puns- _“furious wand waving could land you in a catastrophe”_.) Still, she had a couple gaping inches left where her conclusion should be. Always the hardest bit, she thought. How do you summarize without being redundant?

The lines of A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration were blurring together. _“The adept spellcaster must realize the mutability of the physical world,”_ she read three times before her eyes drooped shut for a second too long. She blinked madly. Closed the book. Thud. Too loud in the big, empty room. 

Sometimes textbooks gave too much information and not enough inspiration. She turned instead to her notebook. She wouldn’t be surprised if McGonagall had some bit of wisdom Emeric Switch did not. She had tried to study with the girls in her dorm, but while she knew she took good notes, Marlene complained that her messy cursive was impossible to read. She couldn’t be blamed- Lily could barely make it out herself. She squinted at the loopy letters, already tired eyes straining harder in the dim light. Lily absentmindedly dragged her pen in swirls and curls winding through her words as she deciphered them.

She was so intent on her studies she didn’t notice a first year boy step through the portrait, wobbling under a pile of books. Until the pile toppled to the floor, jolting Lily from the world of furry goblets and buttons with beetle wings. 

“Damnit, I’m sorry,” said the boy, dusty brown hair falling into his eyes. Lily recognised him as Remus. He usually tried to hide at the back of whatever classroom they were in, but she knew from the rare occasion that he did speak that he was bright. He avoided looking at Lily as he dove to the floor to reassemble his stack of books.

“That’s okay,” said Lily, bending down to pick up _Chadwick’s Charms_. “Do we have something do in Flitwick’s?” she asked with a twinge of fear.

“Just catching up,” (Lily released her breath.) “I slept through, er, most of my classes this week,” he said, looking very absorbed in a bit of lint on his sweater.

He looked at her own stack of books on the floor. “You hitting the books too?”

Lily nodded, about to return to her notes when she noticed the drag in his voice. She studied his face: purple moons under his eyes, pale skin with constellations of faint freckles, (much like her own). He looked as if he hadn’t seen a pillow in days, and the sun, even longer. Gangly legs trudged to an empty table. She looked at the clock above the fireplace. 12:32 am. Too late to be coming back from the library with a pile of work. 

Remus’ chin rested heavily on his fist across the room. “Do you like tea?” Lily found herself asking, “I have English Breakfast and chamomile, but personally, I only really like English Breakfast with breakfast.”

“Er,” Remus looked surprised to be addressed, “I don’t need any, thank you. Kind of you to offer,” he said.

“A cup of tea is an essential study aid,” Lily persuaded, “and besides, it would help me practice.” She gestured to Standard Book of Spells at her feet. 

Remus paused, a hesitant smile appearing for a second on his mouth before he opened it, “Okay then, I suppose I’ll have chamomile.”

Lily grinned, feeling more energized than she had all night. Theory fascinated her, but there was nothing quite the same as practicing magic. And practicing magic with a maybe-friend? It couldn’t be beat. 

Lily tiptoed up the staircase to the first year girl’s dorm. She slowly opened the door and crept to her trunk, pleading the hinge not to squeak as he opened it.

“ _Lumos,_ ” she whispered. She only had to dig around for a second before pulling out her kettle and her box of tea. She grabbed a couple mugs sitting on her nightstand before slipping back downstairs.

Remus smiled at the little wooden box her dad had made her before she left in September. 

“My parents think it’s very important that I can always have tea when I need some,” she explained, “even after I told them they would feed us plenty here.

Remus laughed at this. It was a lovely sound- soft and sweet and pure. She sensed nobody heard it too often. “At least that’s pretty easy for them to ensure,” he said, looking as if there were other things he wished his parents could ensure for him. Lily didn’t point this out.

“Let’s see if I can do this without soaking all our books… _Aguamenti!_ ” Lily said, urging a ribbon of water from her wand. She bit her lip in concentration as she directed it into the kettle. 

When the kettle was full, Lily opened the box, taking out two bags of Chamomile. 

“I- er, I don’t know how to make a fire,” Lily said nervously.

Remus looked pointedly at the fireplace. “Right,” Lily blushed.

“Let’s see then, _Wingardium Leviosa!_ ” The kettle hovered over the fire, shaking a little, but staying up until it began to whistle. Lily pulled it from the heat and poured it into their cups. 

“To outstanding marks,” said Lily, raising her mug.

“Cheers,” answered Remus, lifting his cup to meet hers. Clink.

Lily watched the steam rise from her cup like a sleepy little dragon before she raised it to her lips. The warm cozy aroma of chamomile tea made her sleepier than before. But she looked over at Remus holding the warm cup close to his face; his eyes closed, elegant lashes looking peaceful on his cheek. She knew chamomile was perfect for tonight. For this obviously exhausted boy and- as she felt a yawn overtake her- perhaps for herself to. She had a few hours after lunch to find a conclusion.

She pulled herself onto the couch, curling up at one end. Lily remembered something she’d been wondering about. “Is your family magical?” she asked Remus.

“My dad is, Mum’s not” he took a sip of his tea.

Lily knit her eyebrows together, trying to find the words she needed. “Is this- is Hogwarts- like you thought it’d be?”

Remus opened his eyes and looked at the sky thoughtfully. “It’s more,” he said, as if realizing it himself when the words left his lips. A smile curled at the corner of his mouth.

Lily was pleased to see him curl up at the opposite end of the couch. Remus turned to look at Lily, serious green eyes mirroring each other, brow furrowed, smile quivering into a frown, and asked, “do you think we’ll do okay?”

Lily pulled a blanket over them from the back of the couch. She thought about their piles of textbooks, how diligently they both poured over them. She thought about her parent’s faces from the Hogwarts Express, nervous but excited, she wondered if Remus’ parents had the same expression. She thought about paddling across the lake in the storm that first night, new robes drenched, her red hair plastered to her forehead, no spells yet to guarantee their safety. She thought about sitting as still as she could on the stool in the Great Hall, the Sorting Hat’s voice in her ear talking of brains and bravery, she wondered what it said to Remus. “We will,” she decided.

Remus smiled a little, “I think so too.”

They were asleep before their tea cups were empty.


End file.
